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Lefo tried to wrinkle his short nose and looked around. Surely there were uniforms for humans and other races, but disguising a vench and an elf would be tricky since they normally make up the higher echelons of society, even in Ruin.

"I don't think that'd work EV. We're not really... janitorial type of people," and besides, Lefo loathed to wear anything other than his survival suit, truth to be told. It's an elf thing. Though he did spot something that might just do the trick.

"This might help, there's a couple of superintendent pass cards over there. I wonder where the owners ar...."

Before Lefo could finish, he heard a low moan and shuffling coming from the other room besides the janitor's storeroom that they were currently in.

"Ahh.... they should've really found a gate to the hotel we were in. Anyway...," Lefo handed the card on an elastic lanyard towards EV.

"This should do the trick. Enough for us to get out of here and onto the streets," Lefo put on the lanyard over his neck and unclasped the golden rings that held his hair together. Luckily the superintendent passes do not have pictures on them, making the disguise a viable one. Good enough to pass on through, but not for close scrutiny.

"We better get a move on before they get quiet and notice we're here...," Lefo referred to the couple inside the other room.

He opened the door and stepped outside to the busy sights of the Center Piece Municipal Hall lobby during peak hour. He blessed the Cubes for making their disguise within such a big crowd more of a success.

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Jordan looked down into the open box and was unimpressed. Thoroughly unimpressed. He was expecting something grand or otherworldly. He really wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but what he got was a series of papers, neatly bound at one end, that contained nothing but numbers and formulae.

The space that the papers didn’t fill was taken up by padding in the form of silken cloth. He couldn’t believe that this much opulence had been spared for a simple document box. He then remembered that Ruin and Center Piece were two different worlds. Apparently in Center Piece people could be murdered over a few sheets of paper.

He rifled through the sheets, trying to read them as he turned from one to another. It was exceptionally dry stuff. There was no indication of what they were for, although the later pages contained technical schematics that only confused Jordan. He wasn’t a dullard, but the abstract way the schematics were presented didn’t help him at all.

When he finished leafing through the papers he stood and tried to set up another synchronicity field. A test to see if he’d broken the wards on the box by opening it. To his relief and disgust he found that the field failed him again, collapsing as the random thoughts of the living box filled his mind.

“Hell,” he whispered to himself while he placed the papers back into the box and closed it, “What am I supposed to do with you?”

The thing didn’t answer as it inched along the ground. He scooped it back up and put it back into his sack, tightening and fastening the backpack as well as he could. There was obviously no way he could go to Center Piece now and he still couldn’t go back home lest he bring the agent or agents back to Weesog and the others. He needed help and he knew where he could find it, he just didn’t like the idea of seeing her again.

With no other choices, Jordan jogged back towards the tram station. He kept to himself and made sure that he went unnoticed as just another guy on his way home. He forced himself not to look around for guards pursuing him. He also kept himself from checking his bag every few seconds to make sure the box hadn’t wiggled free. His gambit seemed to have paid off when he was able to board another outbound tram without any fuss.

This time he wasn’t headed for Section 4. Instead he boarded the tram for Subsection 15, better known as Beat Town. It was out of the way, but the Committee usually stayed away from the popular subsection. He needed to see the Madame’ and have his fortune read.

__________________
I wouldn't touch it. That thing is made out of like 95% pure, unadulterated, badger-in-my-pants crazy...
-Geist Panik

My scroll

The lanyard for the id fit around EV's neck - barely. She followed the elf out of the janitor closet, stopping only long enough to mentally shove a stack of buckets under the handle for the smaller adjacent room. Hopefully that would be enough to keep the busy couple from emerging fortuitously while they were still in the midst of leaving. Then she hurried from the closet as quickly as possible - as much to get away from the awful stink of pheromones as to hurry on their way. Just the chemicals in the air had been doing weird things to her long-due-to-mature body, making the tightness of her skin all the more pressing. Perhaps she could not put off the chrysalis as long as she thought she could.

They had not really made any plans as for what to do now that they were in Centerpiece, but had to trust in the nature of things to lead them to where they were needed. Serendipity and synchronicity weren't as strong here as they were in Ruin, but even the best engineers' attempts had been unable to entirely eliminate them. It provided them with the continual war of science and if all such battles were easily won, then what would be that point?

They were, however, heading in a general direction anyway. In this case towards the exit of the building. No sense in pushing the limit of their meager disguises any more than needed. It would be easier to blend in somewhere that Wanted pictures weren't likely to pop up any second. The Vench and the elf were close enough to smell the freedom from the outside streets - a combination of fake butter and new plastic - when a large hunch backed human intercepted them dressed in a blue janitorial jumpsuit. He had a slightly panicked expression that fell at odds with his tough hypermasculine face. When he saw their supervisor ID cards, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Supervisors, I'm so glad I found you. Senator Budil - the Vench who just had his office redone, is raising complaints and asking to speak to you. Apparently he had an allergic reaction to some compound in the carpet cleaner and now he's breaking out all over. I tried to explain that the new compound is exactly the same as the old, but he's insistent. I'm sure that if it was the two of you... you could smooth it over."

The man's voice was steady, but his eyes held a slightly pleading look that said a Vench with a skin allergy was not someone he could handle on his own. Ev, however, did not want to risk the contact with the higher ups - even less so if the man was one of her own kind. Her reply was slightly snappish, but not out of character for an annoyed supervisor she supposed. "Tell him to go see a medic on our expense. And change the damn carpet cleaner."

"I already said all that - he was very insistent. And very angry. Please, if I don't bring you, he said that he would take it to the next level up." No skin off EV's antennae if those two they were impersonating got fired. They deserved it anyway, engaging in illicit activities while supposedly on the job. But the human male was very large and very much standing in their way. He did not seem very inclined to just let them go peaceably - Senator Budil had implanted quite the fear in him and a fearful human quickly turns to an unpredictable human.

Lefo craned his neck to one side and then squinted his eyes, looking for some excuse to get away from this. This was exactly what they didn't need at the moment.

"Listen, son... what's your name?"

"Ebert, sir."

"Ebert, Ebert... listen, Ebert. We're on our way to a meeting but obviously Senator Budil got your pants twisted in a bunch. We'll be on our way but we need you to round up the janitors while we entertain the senator's complaints, I'm not going to have anyone say that the Janitorial Office is inefficient. Is that clear?"

"But, the senator said..."

"I know, we're on it. But we can't do two things at once And we both know the senator is a very impatient vench, now git!"

Lefo didn't know how this would play out, but fear couldn't lead to motivation in the weirdest of ways. He just hoped that the big human would follow his orders under his duress, it might just give them the slip to head towards that front door.

Elves don't sweat. But if Lefo could, he'd sweat a bucket full from anticipation.

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Ebert looked like he was thinking. And from the consternation on his face, it was apparent that that was not only of the daily requirements of his job. He scratched his chin with one dirty fingernail and tried not to look into their eyes. Instead he fixed his gaze very firmly on the id tags that were still hanging around their necks as if he was trying to convince himself that that sign of authority meant that he should follow their orders absolutely. His watery gray eyes did not look up as he spoke. "Umm...Sir, what should I say to the other janitors? I mean - why am I rounding them up exactly?"

EV held back a groan of frustration. What a lovely time for people to start actually questioning authority. It was a perfectly legitimate question, but that could not stop her from answering a little coldly. "Obviously we need to track down who exactly is responsible for this little cleaner mix up in the Senator's office. If one of our own makes a mistake, do you really expect us to keep him on much longer?"

She spoke the last sentence icily and clearly, her second meaning unmistakable. If she had had visible eyes, they would have been staring hard at the janitor. As it was, she could only emphasize the words by directing her antennae in his direction. It seemed to do the trick somewhat. The man showed a visible tremor than calmed himself and nodded his head.

"Th-that seems reasonable ma'am. I'll use the page system then - it's easily accessible through the closet. Won't take me but a moment."

EV let a little bit of approval seep into her words now. It was difficult to express emotion when you don't have much of a face, but she had never had the need for emotion before now. Learning on the fly made her voice acting a little rough, but the janitor was a little on the shaky side anyway and eager to read any hints she could give off. "Very good - I'll place the responsibility for finding out whose fault it was in your hands. You seem to have a good head for leadership and an established rapport with Senator Budil already. Who knows, maybe this will be what it takes for promotion."

The man finally raised his head to look at them with a hopeful smile. He nodded vigorously and headed off towards the janitor's closet they had just emerged from, a little more energy evident in his step. It was only when he had crossed half the distance between them and the door that EV remembered the other guests they had left behind in the closet.

The tram continued on slowly, its bulk rumbling down the less than sturdy tracks it was situated on. The smaller trams might have been able to zip around a section at a fair pace, but the larger inter-section trams moved with ponderous ignorance of other people’s needs and schedules.

Jordan fidgeted in his seat as the journey continued. The Beat Town bound tram was packed with people from all over Ruin and he felt smothered in their midst. The stench of all the bodies was nearly unbearable, but they all endured it for Beat Town. Its stance on the Committee and Center Piece was very clear; the uppity stooges weren’t welcome here. If Jordan hadn’t known the Madame, he would have still come to this place. It was easy to get lost in the crowds.

When he could, Jordan left his seat to stroll the corridors of the tram and look out the windows. Night was falling in Section 2. Soon Center Piece would dip under the rim of the Spiral and come out again on its darkened underside. There would be no stars on the other side save for the guide lights held aloft in the night vapors. For the subsections it was even simpler as the refraction orbs would simply die out and plunge their areas into darkness that was only broken by various street lamps.

Outside he saw the rail tramps ambling alongside the moving tram, knowing just how close they could get to the trams without be barked at by the guards at the doors. Jordan felt a pang of guilt as he watched them and their sour faces pass by. He had just enough money for the tram left and wondered if he’d have to make the long walk to his next destination. Jordan shook the thought from his head though, he was getting ahead of himself again.

As he passed a vendor in one of the mid-decks his stomach growled audibly at the greasy and simple foods it offered. With all the excitement of the day he’d forgotten to eat. The last food he could remember having was the bread and meat roll from that morning. As Jordan dwelled on just how hungry he was he noticed a simple bass beat moving through the tram, rattling its metal body and thumping up through his feet.

With each mile they crossed the thumping grew in intensity and moved from his feet into Jordan’s chest. Around Jordan some of the other passengers began to stomp and move along with the bass beat as they felt it too. Even Jordan couldn’t ignore it. He joined them as the beat infected him with it’s rhythm. As they drew ever closer to the beat’s source Jordan could hear the mess of random and sometimes conflicting melodies coming out of Beat Town towards them.

It was chaos as different dancers picked up on the music they liked best and tried to tune out the others. Jordan knew better and moved to the totality of the chaos like a few others that had been to Beat Town before did. It was a mess of music but it all obeyed the bass beat and swayed to its motions. It was the truth of Beat Town that while all the music of Ruin came through its streets and hall, it was all still one complete piece of music that traversed lines of race and station with little regard.

--

An hour later the passengers of the tram disembarked sweating and tired before their real partying even began. They were greeted by the wild and colorful banners and lights that covered every square inch of Beat Town. The scintillating colors drew them into a warm embrace as they stepped in time towards their destination. As they walked, wake gas filtered into them from the air and rejuvenated them a little. For some the mild dose was a little too strong and caused them to run wild through the streets, divesting of their clothes and inhibitions.

Jordan could only shake his head at them before he remembered just how bad he’d been the first time he’d been here. He’d run naked through the streets too and caused more than a little trouble for the bouncers that roamed the streets to keep the peace. He fingered the last shill he had, the important shill, and went in search of the Madame.

As he rounded a few corners he realized that Beat Town was in the throes of a full on party. Dancers clogged the street. They swirled and crested like living waves. In their midst were stray eddies that were people with actual business to attend to here. In some cases the swells broke and created a temporary hall of bodies. The people ran down those halls, trying to beat their closure before getting caught up again and made to stand and wait for another moment of compassion from those around them.

Jordan avoided the mess altogether by climbing up fire escapes and pipes to reach the tops of buildings. With the ease of a Tack he leapt from roof to roof. He knew where he was headed. Three buildings later he was at the entrance of what could only be described as a private club. He walked past incoming bouncers that weren’t about to listen to anything he had to say. He simply held his last shill up and walked on. They stopped mid charge and went back to their posts.

Unimpeded while he held the coin up, he continued past the private parties, drug rings, and composers that hummed out snippets of tune while they inked paper furiously. A few looked his way out of curiosity, but they went back to their work. They knew what the coin meant and they weren’t about to anger the Madame. The last impediment Jordan faced was a simple door and Jordan was not surprised to see it unlocked. He walked into what he knew would be a darkened room and held his shill out instead of up.

From the shadows came a slender, wooden hand that took his and led him forward. This close Jordan could see her in all of her simple glory. The Madame, the elf outcast, pulled him into a warm embrace and pressed her lips to his. Jordan stiffened at the unexpected intimacy and stayed stock still while she smiled at him.

“You’ve gotten so serious my eager boy,” she arched her eyebrow and removed herself from him to sit cross-legged on one of her many pillows nearby, “Or should I say man? Come and sit with me. We’ll talk about you, me, and the troubles you carry on your back.”

Jordan obeyed and sat across from her. He wasn’t surprised that she knew about the box. She was a veracitor after all. She could see the paths of the future and tell him what he needed to do. She was Ruin’s oracle.

__________________
I wouldn't touch it. That thing is made out of like 95% pure, unadulterated, badger-in-my-pants crazy...
-Geist Panik

My scroll

It wouldn't be much of a stretch if Lefo's fears mirrored EV's own when they saw where Ebert was heading off to.

"Let's go, EV.... we don't want to be here. And I mean now," Lefo finished. He walked towards the exit quickly as Ebert was reaching out for the handle on the store room door. Lefo's not a stranger to danger, being a gate runner and all. But this current event has him agitated and pumped his green sap all over his body.

They were nearly out, Ebert was turning the handle now. By the time Ebert opened the door to hear banging on the walls from the other smaller room, they were out the front entrance... just barely.

Lefo didn't turn back and hurried down the Municipal Hall steps while an alarm flared faintly inside.

"Cubes, that was fast...."

A human hand pulled Lefo over by his bag and directed him towards the side of the street below. Lefo turned back and saw that EV was quickly manhandled and escorted the same way by two other humans with a third arm on their backs. They were shoved inside a steam van vehicle and it chugged away quickly from the building.

"What on earth are you doing here, Lefo! And how did you get pass customs?"

The speaker was a grizzled old man with an untidy stubble and a monocle over his left eye. He was driving while Lefo took the passenger seat, EV was behind with the other two.

"Long story Albus. And thanks for the pickup. How did you find us anyway?"

"Bad news travel fast. Right now we better get you both to a safe place. We can talk later."

The steam van chugged and hooted among the other vehicles here on the roads of Center Piece. For once, Lefo could relax a bit.

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A light appeared before both of them, too faint to illuminate the room but just bright enough to let them see each other. The Madame reclined easily on one of her pillows took Jordan’s shill without a word, just a sad smile, and studied it where it caught the light. From his vantage point Jordan could see that she was still doing well despite her seclusion. Her hair was still a fresh and verdant green while her bark skin was healthy and pliant.

Under the white sari she wore, Jordan could make out the distinctly feminine lines and curves that made her the outcast of her people. He remembered those curves very well. On the loneliest nights in his hut he remembered being with her and in that first wild rush of going from being a boy to a man. She accepted his inexperience with grace and had shown him what it meant to be with another person, even if she wasn’t human.

Her bodies shape was the result of many hours under the flesh softening and molding techniques of a synch-doctor. Using synchronicity those doctors convince the cells to loose their substance and become pliant. The best could rewrite a strand of flesh and bone into new arms and legs.

She never told Jordan or anyone else why she’d had the procedure done. Some said it was in the demands of the future that made the choice for her. Others liked to believe that she was driven mad by some vision. Elves in general considered her a dangerous and repellent individual for deciding to become single gendered. Everyone knew that if she wasn’t the veracitor that she would have been found nutrient starved on the street years ago.

“You came back like I said you would,” she whispered to him, “Even though my harsh words drove you away, you still came back a supplicant to my abilities. You even brought the shill like I said you would.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Jordan whispered back, “You’re the veracitor. What you say comes true. So I held on to it and came back when I was in trouble.”

“You didn’t come back because you missed my touch, Jordan,” she gave him a coy look, “Most men remember their first lovers. I know you still remember me. I still remember you.”

“You said that you’d hate me in the long run and that I’d hate you. You said that we were toxic for each other. What you say comes true,” Jordan’s whisper rose with a bit of his own anger, “I didn’t have a choice because with you there isn’t one.”

“Jordan,” she had the sad smile on her face again, “There’s always a choice.”

They sat there in silence. Jordan wasn’t sure but the light before them seemed even brighter now and caught the few polished spots on the coin easier. The Madame made a disgusted face and turned the coin in her hand.

“Weesog is dead. Shot to death and your family has been taken into custody,” her voice was flat as if she were reading off facts from a report to him, “Some of them are dead and others are about to die.”

Jordan sat there in shock. Weesog, his adopted father and mentor was dead. It was nearly a physical blow and Jordan fought of the wave of guilt, bile, anger, and sadness that threatened to escape him. In the haze he remembered the last thing he’d said to the vench.

“Look, it’s my life and I’ll do what I want to with it,” Jordan spat, keeping his anger in check, “I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to stay a tack and unless you fire me its going to be what I’m doing for as long as I can. Now do you have some work for me?”

He didn’t say that he loved him. Didn’t say anything that mattered. Just spouted anger and indignation at giving up his own little comfort zone. Weesog had given up his life. And what of the others? They were dying and hurting. Jordan knew it was his fault because of the box. It might as well have been him that killed them. His guilt and revulsion won out in the end and Jordan emptied what little he had in his stomach on the floor next to him. The Madame, in the throes of her own synchronistic field, continued despite his display.

“There are others that are being hunted. A vench and an elf. A wolf and a quiet man are honing in on them. They are tied to you by that box and they’ll share your fate. The box holds the key to our salvation. The formulae within can be used to turn reality back into what it should be. It can repair Ruin. The Committee is already here for you Jordan. You’re going to Center Piece and you’ll die. I’m sorry.”

Jordan whirled with panicked eyes and saw men standing where there were none before. They just appeared out of thin air without so much as a disturbance. One stood in the puddle of Jordan’s vomit as if he’d always been there.

They wore blue suits and most were human save for the single elf among them. While Jordan looked frantically for an escape route, he was grabbed from behind and a gas mask was forced over his nose and mouth. It smelled sweetly sour and made Jordan’s eyes begin to fog. Jordan kicked and fought, smashing his fists and feet into whomever he could, but his blows were those of an amateur and were mostly avoided.

The last thing Jordan registered was the snap of an electrical current and an intense, yet numbing pain run through him. One of the men in blue withdrew his shock baton and let the others hold the limp young man while the gas took hold. When he was finally out the Madame moved through the men to caress Jordan’s face softly.

“They sought me out first Jordan,” she said even though he couldn’t hear her, “I told them that you were coming here and when you would arrive. I betrayed Beat Town and you for the promise of tomorrow. It’ll be glorious when it comes to pass Jordan. I’m sorry I lied to you though. This way will be softer for you… You were right. There really was no choice.”

“Very poetic,” the elf among the humans said quietly, “We’ll take our leave of you Madame.”

It tapped it’s fake ear twice and spoke aloud, “This is Croy. I’ll need a teleport back to Center Piece. You can tell Adnan that I managed to find his running tack without the body count. Perhaps he can show a little respect the next time he expects me to drop everything and come running.”

There was no disturbance again as they were plucked out of reality and sent back to their origin. The Madame was left alone with Jordan’s coin and the fading light in her dark room. She made no move to clean up Jordan’s vomit; a maid would be along sometime to check up on her. Instead she continued to watch the reflections and images in the coin. As the light finally went, the Madame smiled with pride at what she saw.

__________________
I wouldn't touch it. That thing is made out of like 95% pure, unadulterated, badger-in-my-pants crazy...
-Geist Panik

My scroll

The steam van chugged slowly amidst the traffic of other steam vehicles on the streets of Center Piece. Lefo turned back from time to time to make sure whether EV was comfortable or not. The heat inside the steam van was something else, though the small fans placed on the dashboard did little to cool everyone down.

"Word has it that Central agents are after you and your lady friend."

"Word, Albus? How come he knows things so fast?"

Albus shrugged as he kept his eyes on the road and rubbed his stubbly chin.

"He's Word, Lefo. It's his job to know stuff."

"Does he know WHY they're after us? We haven't seen any in the flesh but they're always close on our heels."

Albus snickered as he tapped the ornament hanging on the rearview mirror. It's a skull of a rook tied with a stout string.

"Not with this they won't. It stops scrying of any kind. No synchronicity shit can happen with this thing around. You're safe with me... for now."

Lefo reclined in the chair and stared at the barely moving traffic through the dirty windshield in front of him. He searched his pack and removed a small crumb from an opened nutrient pack, nibbling it.

"You still haven't distributed those huh?"

"No time... Sal was supposed to...," Lefo's voice trailed off at the mention of his deceased friend and no other words were spoken for the next few minutes.

"Well, at least you get to live a bit longer with those. You're going to need it."

"Where are we going, Albus?"

"To see Word. He wants to talk to you and your vench lady friend."

Lefo rolled up his eyes and reclined further on the seat. All the while entertaining thoughts of "why me? why now? why Word of all people?" But if anyone could make sense of what's happening, it'd be Word. Lefo doesn't trust him, but at the moment he has no choice. Regrettably, neither does EV.

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Jordan awoke later with the sting of betrayal and the stink of the sewer on him. It wasn’t a gentle awakening, it was sudden and fierce. He cried out and started to rise suddenly, but was attached to his seat through the bonds around his midsection, ankles, and wrists. His cry was met with chuckles and curses from others he could just barely see in the dim light.

“Shut the hell up! I’m trying to get some gods damned sleep here!”

“We got a screamer. Hey we got a screamer…”

“Time heals all wounds! Time heals…”

Jordan looked himself over and his situation with the kind of calm that usually settles over people that have gone through too much in a day. He was in a bright red shirt and shorts that made his skin itch terribly. There were old stains on it and it was a size too big for him. But that was nothing compared to the stiff discomfort he felt from the simple wooden chair he was attached to. The other men he could see were around him in similar clothes and on similar seats.

“Morning sunshine,” a voice said huskily behind Jordan, shaking him out of his state of mind and back into the reality of the situation, “My name is Ben. I saw them drag you in. I liked what I saw. I got some walk time coming up. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

Jordan strained to see the man that spoke, but the chain and the man’s own efforts got in the way. There was nothing else Jordan could do, so he focused on what he could do and began trying to peer further into the darkness around him. He saw that there were all in rows and on different levels. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see cat walks high above and the faint glint of gear works beyond.

He tried to keep his mind active and focused on everything that he could, but in the end he ran out of distractions and his mind settled on the one thing that did him no good. He thought of Weesog and the others. They were either here with him or dead just as the Madame had implied. The guilt and sadness came back hard and fast, but Jordan refused to cry. Instead he focused on his anger.

The agents, whoever they were, had shot his father in cold blood. Sure Weesog only had a year or two after his metamorphosis, but those were his year. Those men stole him from Jordan and the rest. Box or no box, they didn’t have the right to do that. Jordan swore at that moment that no matter what, he’d make the Committee feel a little of his pain. It would probably be impossible and he knew that no matter what he did that he’d die, but Jordan refused to take the Madame’s “softer path.”

The room broke into blinding light as a small refraction orb caught the light of the sun. Jordan could see now where he was at. He realized that he was in the Auditorium, the prison theatre of Center Piece, with the rest of the captive audience. It was here, according to rumors and a little fact, that the Committee reprogrammed the dissidents and criminals. But it didn’t intimidate Jordan. If anyone could find a way out of this place it would be a tack like him.

Day 2

__________________
I wouldn't touch it. That thing is made out of like 95% pure, unadulterated, badger-in-my-pants crazy...
-Geist Panik

My scroll